


Fairy Tails

by Ravenclaw1991



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 04:46:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2494967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw1991/pseuds/Ravenclaw1991
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets cursed and only Scott can save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairy Tails

**Author's Note:**

> My friend Ervin suggested this plot to me :) I gave it a go.

"Did you hear about the new guy handing out invites to a party?" Allison asked as she sat her tray on the table.

Lydia scoffed. “He just started here and he’s already having a party. Someone’s a little desperate to be popular.”

"Maybe he was popular at his old school." Allison shrugged when they looked at her. "I know how it is to be ripped away from your old home.. a lot. I can kind of relate."

"I don’t like him," Isaac said flatly. 

"You never like anyone, Isaac," Stiles retorted as Scott sat down.

Isaac just shrugged. “He kind of looks like you, Stiles.”

"Who looks like Stiles?" Scott asked. 

"Your roomie here seems to be under the impression that the new guy looks like me," Stiles said. "I guess that explains why you don’t him because you clearly don't like me."

Isaac rolled his eyes. Everyone turned at looked at Brendan, the new guy.

"I don’t see it," Scott admitted.

Stiles grinned. “Thank you!” 

"Hmm," Lydia hummed. "I see it a little. Same hair color. Kind of skinny and tall. He’s got moles and brown eyes. That’s about it."

The new guy started toward their table.

"Speak of the devil," Stiles muttered. 

Scott was sitting at the head of the table, since he was the alpha and all. Kind of like the dad at a family dinner. Stiles and Isaac were closest to him. Allison was beside Isaac, Lydia was across from her, beside Stiles. Brendan flopped down into the seat between Lydia and Allison, across from Scott. 

"Sup, guys," he said casually. 

Stiles and Isaac just gave him a hard look. The girls smiled. 

"Hi," Scott said lamely. 

Brendan grinned. “So, you probably heard I’m having a party. Its only for juniors. You’re all invited.”

"Well, I should hope so," Lydia pointed out. "Its not a party unless I’m there."

"Is that a promise?" Brendan asked, looking into her eyes. "You're Lydia Martin right? The party goddess of Beacon Hills."

Stiles scoffed. The dude was clearly trying to flirt with her and it wasn't working. 

"Of course," Lydia replied. "And I never miss a party."

"We’ll all be there," Scott told him. 

"I don’t like him," Stiles said, ignoring the ‘told you’ look Isaac was giving him. "I am  _not_  going to that party.”

"Me either," Isaac added with a nod. 

That was the first time Stiles and Isaac had actually agreed on something. 

* * *

"I can’t believe we let them drag us here," Stiles groaned as he and Isaac stood in the front hall at Brendan’s house.

The girls had abandoned them. Scott had too, or so they thought. He was making his way back to them with drinks. 

"Here ya go," Scott said excitedly, handing them plastic cups. "Stop complaining Stiles, and enjoy yourself. You're always the one dragging me places, finally its my turn." Stiles just frowned. "Just be glad you put your pants on when you did. Lydia was two seconds from dragging you here in your underwear."

Scott downed his drink in one gulp and headed back into the room. 

"There’s something off about this drink," Isaac said, sniffing it.

Stiles sniffed his. “Its got alcohol in it. Maybe that’s what you smell?”

Isaac shrugged. Stiles took a sip and it was fine. He figured he might as well enjoy himself and left Isaac by the door and headed into the crowd of dancing classmates. 

Fifteen minutes later, Stiles was in the middle of making an ass of himself on the dance floor when Isaac grabbed him.

"What’s the deal, man?" Stiles spat. "I was dancing."

"Yes, you looked like a newborn giraffe learning how to walk," Isaac pointed out. "There’s something wrong in this house."

Stiles had had one drink too many, and he had to ask Isaac to slow down and repeat what he said. 

"Look, I’ll show you." He grabbed Stiles by the elbow and dragged him out of the room and up the stairs. 

The upstairs hall was empty and quiet except for the sound of the music drifting up the stairs. 

"I was looking for the bathroom and I couldn’t touch this door." He reached out for the door and his hand stopped an inch from it. There was a ripple through the air. 

Stiles touched the door frame. “Its rowan. Mountain ash.. you know, before it becomes ash.” He looked at Isaac. “That it doesn't really mean anything.. but it wouldn't hurt to be sure.”

Stiles reached for the doorknob and turned it. “Locked.”

"We need to find Scott," Isaac told him.

"Hang on." 

He put his hand up to the door, concentrating on unlocking it. Maybe it was the alcohol because he had no real reason to think it would work, but then the lock clicked. He and Isaac stared at one another.

"Whoa," was all Isaac said. 

"You can’t cross the door still. Wait right here, I’ll check it out."

Stiles pushed the door open and walked into the dark room. He felt along the wall for the light switch and flipped it. The walls were lined with shelves which were covered in jars of bizarre things and Old books. Ten times creepier than the back room he’d discovered at Deaton’s. The worst part was a potted plant sitting in the window that was clearly wolfsbane. 

He examined the closest shelf. The jars were labeled in something that wasn’t English. One of the books had the work ‘ _sacrificium_ ’ on the spine. 

"Okay, good news, your suspicions were justified," he told Isaac when he got back into the hall. "Bad news, this dude is a druid. Probably a darach because I recognized ‘sacrifice’ in Latin on a book. We need to find Scott and the girls,  _now_ before we all end up tied to trees with our throats slit.”

Isaac followed the scent of his alpha through the crowd as best as he could. It was hard because of all the other scents mixing together. 

They reached a door and Isaac couldn’t touch it again. 

"Go get Allison and Lydia," Stiles told him. He nodded and headed back into the main part of the house. 

This time, the door wasn’t locked. Stiles pushed it open and found himself walking into a garage. Scott and Brendan were talking beside a motorcycle. 

"-cool bike," Scott was saying. 

"It was my dad's," Brendan told him.

"Scott!" He was relieved that Scott was okay but they needed to leave. 

"Hey, Stiles," Scott said as Brendan handed him a bottle of beer. Then he realized the look on Stiles’ face. "What’s wrong?"

Stiles pointed at Brendan. “He’s what’s wrong. He’s a druid, Scott.”

Scott turned to Brendan.

"Stiles isn’t wrong. That’s not a problem, is it?"

Clearly Scott didn’t think so because he shook his head. 

"Damn it, Scott. Stop assuming everyone is automatically good."

Scott shrugged. “Every druid that’s not Deaton or Morrell isn’t automatically evil, you know. You really need to stop judging people.”

Stiles gaped at Scott. “Um, I’m an excellent judge of character, Scott. Remember Matt? I said he was evil and I was right.” Scott was about to take a sip of his beer and Stiles snatched it. “Don’t drink that,” he snapped.

"Dude, what is your problem tonight? Are you jealous or something?"

"Oh, you'd know if I were jealous because this douche wouldn't be walking." He held the beer up. "This is probably poisoned, Scott!"

Brendan shook his head. “Look, Stiles, if I’ve offended you, I’m sorry. I just moved here with my mom. I mean no harm. I’m just trying to make friends.”

"Which is exactly what someone evil would say!" Stiles spat and Scott groaned. "I’ll prove it to you and when I die, let it be on your conscious, Scott." He took a swig of the beer and nothing happened.

Scott and Brendan both stared at him. 

"See, nothing-" Scott was saying as everything went black. The last thing he saw was Brendan’s lips curling into a smirk. 

Scott's words trailed off as he launched himself forward to catch Stiles as he fell.

"Stiles?" Scott asked, scared. No response. "What did you do?" he snarled at the druid. 

Brendan was just smirking. “Well, I can’t say this doesn't complicate things. I was hoping to get you, but at least your annoying emissary is out of the way.”

"Stiles isn’t-" Scott started. He shook his head. "What do you want?"

"I need you for a power gaining ritual. Any alpha would do, but you’re the only living true alpha. You’ll make me stronger. Nothing personal." Brendan rubbed his arm as though he were uncomfortable. "I don't even look like this! I just took on this form to gain your trust. Originally, I was going to kidnap Stiles and impersonate him, but he was always by your side. I never got the chance. I decided to go with this. I mean, how could you not trust someone that looked almost exactly like your best friend? And it worked a lot faster than I expected. You really are too trusting, Scott. You should listen to Stiles... Oh wait, you won't be alive to do that."

He turned to grab something and, before he even realized he was moving, Scott sucker punched the druid in the face. His jaw cracked and he went down, smacking his head on the concrete.

Scott was back at Stiles’ side. He still had a pulse. His breathing was slow and steady. It seemed as though he were sleeping.

"Scott?" Allison asked, bursting into the garage. Lydia was right behind her. 

Isaac ran head first into the mountain ash barrier over the door. 

"What happened?" Lydia demanded, kneeling down and feeling Stiles’ forehead.

Scott told them. 

"We need to get him to Deaton," Scott said with a small voice. 

"It’s not your fault," Allison assured him. 

Scott took Stiles and went ahead with Lydia. Scott was too upset. He sat in the backseat stroking Stiles’ hair hoping he’d wake up. Allison and Isaac were going to tie Brendan up and stuff him in the trunk of her car while the party still raged inside.

* * *

Deaton shoved everything off of the table to make room for Scott to lay Stiles down. He had carried Stiles into the clinic bridal style, something Stiles would kill him for.

He couldn’t help but blame himself. Stiles was a good judge of character, he was always right. Scott just didn’t want to believe it this time. Brendan was so cool. He had an awesome bike. He had even offered to let Scott try it out right before Stiles walked in. Who knew what would’ve happened if Stiles hadn’t arrived. He definitely wouldn’t be laying on the table. Stiles had probably saved his life though.

Scott was so distressed that Lydia had to call the sheriff to tell him. He could hear the emotion in the man’s voice over the phone as told her he’d be there immediately.

"I can confidently say that Stiles has been cursed," Deaton announced after completing his examination. "What sort of curse, I’m not sure."

The sheriff had arrived by then and the look of pain on his face broke Scott’s heart. He felt even more guilty. 

"Its not your fault," Allison repeated slowly and sternly. Had he been in the mood, he’d have accused her of sounding like a broken record.

"So, uh, can you find out what kind of curse it is?" Stiles’ dad asked.

Deaton nodded. “I believe so. I just need to know exactly what happened.”

Scott told the story again. 

"Is there any way you could get me a sample of what Stiles drank? If I can find out what is in it, I can find out what it did to him."

Isaac had that covered. He had managed to grab the beer bottle as they left. 

Scott passed out in a chair around midnight. Isaac remained by his side. The sheriff stayed next to Stiles the whole time. Allison and Lydia were running around helping Deaton. He had them getting books and ingredients. 

"Scott," someone said, waking him up.

He blinked the drowsiness out of his eyes to see Lydia. It was almost dawn outside.

"His he awake?" he blurted out, eyes shifting immediately to Stiles. Disappointment overwhelmed him. 

"Not yet," she told him. "Soon."

Of all the things he could’ve imagined Deaton telling him, what he heard was  _not_ at all what he was expecting.

"I trust you’re all familiar with stories such as Sleeping Beauty and Snow White?" he asked. Everyone nodded. "Well..," he waved a hand at Stiles, "same thing. Its called the Eternal Sleep and there is only one cure."

The sheriff scratched his head. “Wait.. so only a true love’s kiss can wake him up?”

The vet nodded. “Any ideas?”

Every eye in the room landed on Lydia. 

She sighed. “Fine. Though I’m almost completely certain he’s over me.”

And apparently he was. Lydia leaned down and pressed her lips to Stiles’. Nothing happened. 

"Does Stiles have any other crushes?" Deaton asked. "Anyone-?" He cut himself off when he realized the girls were staring at Scott.

"What are you staring at me for?" he asked.

Lydia scrutinized him. “Scott McCall, get off of your werewolf ass and kiss your best friend.”

"No!" Scott protested. "What makes you think its me? And its just going to make things weird if I kiss him and it doesn't work."

"If you kiss him and it doesn’t work, he doesn’t have to know about it," Allison assured him. "Isaac?"

Isaac stood up and shoved Scott over to Stiles. 

Scott groaned. “Fine, I’ll do it. If this messes everything up, its on you guys.”

He bent over and kissed Stiles. It was a little weird since there was no response to it… at least at first. Stiles’ lips moved and Scott opened his eyes only to find himself and Stiles staring into one another’s eyes. Scott awkwardly broke the kiss.

"Uh..," Scott said intelligently

"Whatcha doin’?" Stiles asked casually with a grin.

"Uh…," Scott repeated. He stared at the girls. "You _knew_!”

"Guilty," Allison admitted.

Lydia smiled. “Honey, I frequently hear the dead speaking in my head and  _they_ knew. It wasn’t exactly a secret.”

"Don’t ever think I don’t like or care about you, Stiles," Isaac said sternly as Deaton preformed a quick check up on Stiles. "You annoy me, but I do care."

Once the vet was done and the sheriff hugged Stiles to death, Scott asked to be alone with Stiles.

"I swear to God, if you say ‘I’m sorry’ I will smack the red out of your eyes," Stiles threatened. 

Scott couldn’t help but smile. “Well, I am. I should’ve listened to you.”

"Yes, you should have. I’m always right, remember? But it wasn’t your fault. Next time I say someone is evil, listen to me. Okay?"

Scott nodded. “Okay."

"What did you do to him?" Stiles asked. 

"Uh, he’s tied up in Allison’s trunk." Stiles looked kind of impressed at that. "What do you even do with crazy druids?”

Stiles smirked. "Trust me.. I’ve got ideas already. Framing him for attempted murder is my leading option."

"Remind me to never piss you off," Scott told him.

That earned him a smile. “Shut up and kiss me,  _my hero_.” 

Scott raised an eyebrow. "That was unbelievably corny, even for you."

"Good. I was going for corny. We did just live through a fairy tale after all. Oh, we could be Beauty and the Beast next! You're the Beast, obviously."

"Why am I the Beast?" Scott complained. 

"Because you're a furry werewolf! Duh. Wait! Does that mean these are fairy tails? T-A-I-L not T-A-L-E. You know, because you're a werewolf."

Scott snorted. "That would be cute if I had a tail, which I do not."

" _Yet_ ," Stiles teased. "Now, are you going to kiss me or do I have to kiss myself?" 

He cringed at how stupid that was and Scott laughed at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Stiles "yet" comment about Scott's non-existent tail at the end may or may not have been inspired by this:  
> http://bigredcrazyk.tumblr.com/post/100699422383/visacredit-ummm-omg-stiles-got-his-fox-tail


End file.
